


The Game of Life

by NearlyNormal



Series: GCSE Fictional Coursework [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Danger, GCSE Coursework, Gen, Minor Character Death, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 01:42:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NearlyNormal/pseuds/NearlyNormal
Summary: Prompt: It was the first time I killed a manSubmitted for my English Creative GCSE Coursework 2019





	The Game of Life

It was the first time I killed a man and the air was cold. Gusts of frigid wind played with the coiling shadows and wrapped their way around my heart, calming my mind and steadying my nerves. I could see the silhouettes of machinery carcasses and the skeletons of buildings lit by the sporadic fluorescent glow of a slowly dying bulb and a multitude of tiny sequins high up in the sky. I moved across the uneven ground, finding solace in the darkness. I was doing well. 

 

Then I wasn’t.

 

Time was distracted as my ankle tried its best to meet the ground, bringing my body into rough opposition with the earth. Shrill ringing filled my ears, completely overpowering my sharp inhale as pain flared at the base of my skull. Involuntary tears chased away the dust coating my cheeks as the sky twisted in and out of focus, obscured. Numb fingers fumbled with the strap until I cradled the comforting weight of my gun. I was silent. Everything was silent. 

 

Then the  world exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour and sound. A supernova of synaesthesia orbited my inert body as I blinked up in horror at the pinpricks of white far, far above. Suddenly, the sounds of shots pierced the sky and the stars shone with the light of heaven through the small holes. I scrambled upwards, desperation aiding my every move as my feet slid across the dusty, pockmarked earth and I slotted myself behind the wheels of an overturned truck, my finger on my trigger and the muzzle raised. Even through my jacket and the heavy vest across my torso, I could feel the stability and solidity the tyres afforded me. Protecting my back while gifting me cover in the centre of this melee. Eventually, the groans of the hit grew more infrequent and gradually all was still.

 

Then came the scuffle of unsure footsteps behind me. Freeze. Don’t let them see me.

 

Silence stretched. Suffocating.

 

The footsteps moved on and I took a breath. It was too soon. The patter was soft but echoed in the silence of my fear-stricken brain as they doubled back and rounded the corner. Oh god, I’d come so far. Oh god. Oh god. Oh. Oh?

 

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but the gun was the first thing I noticed. Or rather the lack of it. He stood there, shock scrawled across his face in a particularly inelegant cursive, as his wide eyes tracked the path of my gun to my hands. It was steady, resting casually against my collar as the muzzle lazily tracked a path down to where I assumed his heart lay, nestled within a cage of pearl bars, unaware of any possible dangers facing it. His mouth opened and closed in irregular beats, fear in his eyes and his muted gesticulation assumedly begging. It didn’t matter. There was one reason I was here and it was too late to consider failure. Power coursed through every fibre of my being and my mind finally calmed, pacified by confidence. The composure settled in me and radiated out, strong enough that even he could see it and his hushed pleading escalated. He had done so well. It wasn’t his fault. He’d run and never tell, he promised.

 

But it was all cut short with the recoil from the trigger and the groan as he felt the shot register. The light blinking from his monitor flashed red and his last electronic life flickered and died.  Reaching a hand down, I pulled him up and he walked off muttering about over-competitive psychopaths. I didn’t care as I moved around the rough outline of what was once a car. 

 

They never said laser tag was easy, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  
  



End file.
